The Angel
by Gypsy
Summary: Do you believe in angles?
1. Default Chapter

The Angel

By

Michelle Naylor

Part 1

The sound of footsteps seemed to echo off the bare white hospital walls, making the normally soft sound seem to bang in his ears.

****

Boom, boom, boom.

Just like the gun shots that brought their group to this place once again. Gun shots that by all rights should have sent him to the hell he was certain he deserved. 

Why, God, why? Why couldn't he have stopped it?

He loward his head and stared at his knees. Stared at the once pristine gray silk that was now marred with the bright red stain of blood.

Not his blood. Not his. Why, God, why?

He shut his eyes to block the sight of all that blood, but it did no good. His mind's eye was simply filled with the events of that evening, filled with blood.

"Oh God." His voice was no more then a whisper, but in the quiet of the room it was a shout.

A hand fell on his shoulder and squeezed. He could feel the strength and support it offered. He wished he could reach for that hand, grasp it and hang onto it, sap its strength and take it for his own. But he didn't deserve it, didn't deserve the sign of friendship, and didn't deserve the pity.

He moved his shoulder out from under the hand, got up from the hard plastic chair that he felt like he had been sitting in for hours, and walked across the room to look out the window at the city skyline, mostly hidden in a shroud of haze from the rain that had been plaguing the area for days.

He was still there, staring out that window, when he heard the Emergency Room doctor enter. He did not turn around, his hands clenched up until he could feel his finely manicured nail dig into his palms. Skin broke and bled.

Blood, more blood. God, would he ever be able to wash off all the blood. Blood on his hands. The cliché would have been laughable if it where not so true. Not his blood, not his. Chris's

He could hear the doctor clear his throat, but he didn't turn around, he couldn't, wouldn't.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen," he heard the doctor say. "We did all we could…"

He could hear no more. Without a word to the others in the room, he pushed away from the window and stormed from the room, brushing past the doctor as he went.

He could hear someone calling his name. Josiah? No, why would any of them want him back?

Chris. Chris was gone.

It was his fault, all his.

If only…if only he could turn back the clock.


	2. Part 2

The Angel

By

Michelle Naylor

Part 2

He would never recall the drive from the hospital to his house. From the moment the doctor delivered the news to the time he opened his front door, Ezra Standish remained in a daze.

His long, black trench coat fell from his shoulders and pooled on the floor at the entryway. He dropped his keys on the small table beside him as he made his way over to the sidebar that would provide him with numbing liquids. He would drink. He would drink until he didn't care anymore.

He should never have cared, should have never let himself care. Caring would always lead to heartbreak. Hadn't he learned that by now?

He pulled a bottle of brandy out of the line up of fine liquors and grabbed one of the cut crystal glasses from the shelf above. With a shaking hand he poured, managing to splash some over the side of the glass. A river of expensive brandy spread across the mahogany bar. Something inside of him knew he should be upset about that, but he couldn't bring himself to get a rag to wipe it up. It was just a bar, a thing, a stupid inconsequential thing. It had no thoughts and no feelings. I could not breathe or bleed.

Blood. Chris's blood.

The sound of shattering glass brought him out of his daze. Looking across the room, he realized he must have thrown the glass, brandy and all, and it hit the wall, shattering and staining his cream colored walls with the amber liquid.

"Damn." He began to laugh a laugh akin to the ones emitted by the psychotic clowns of children's nightmares. He laughed until his body dissolved to the floor and the gut busting laughter turned to heart wrenching sobs.

"No." He pulled himself into a sitting position, using the wall for support. He repeated the denial over and over, his voice rising with each syllable. "No, no, no, no, NO!" His head banged against the wall each time; once, twice, three times then four. The fifth hit caused the plaster to crack. He wished it where his skull. "Should have been different. Shouldn't have happened."

It was supposed to be a routine bust. Team 7 was not even in the lead on this one; they where only there as back up for Team 2.

Gregory Hansford was small-time, not even worth the cost of arresting him, but his capture could lead to some bigger fish in the ocean of arms trafficking.

How where they supposed to know Hansford was ready from them?

First the exploding door when Micheals, Torry, and Keil of Team 2 kicked it in. The explosion was merely a diversion for Hansford and his men to attack by gunfire.

The men dived for cover. Ezra could hear Chris and Team 2's leader, Erik Parson, screaming into their mics for more backup.

He then heard his own name being shouted out. He turned at the sound of Chris's voice, and in a split second felt himself being shoved to the side as a shot rang out close to him. He didn't remember how it all ended. The fact that several of the bad guys where dead, and more now under lock and key, was completely irrelevant to him. Chris had been shot. Chris had taken a bullet meant for Ezra. Not Chris's. Him. Ezra.

And now…it just couldn't be. It wasn't right. It just didn't feel like it was supposed to be.

"It's not right." He repeated his thoughts out loud. "It shouldn't have happened."

"That, sir, is correct."

Ezra yelled, the sound of the female voice almost stopping his heart. He sprang to his feet and his eyes met the sight of a young woman sitting on his antique wingback chair. She was wearing light blue jeans and a bright red shirt that was untucked. One leg was crossed over the other, and she was swinging her foot back and forth.

"Who the hell are you?"

She made a 'tsk-tsk- sound and shook her head. "You really shouldn't use that word around me."

Ezra stared at her, his mouth open in astonishment. "What?"

"That 'word'. You know, the H-E-double hockey sticks word. Those in my line of work don't really it."

Ezra shut his eyes and rubbed at them with his fingers, thinking doing so would clear the obvious hallucination he was having.

He opened his eyes again. Nope. Didn't work. She was still sitting there, grinning at him.

"Who are you?" He asked again. "And how did you get in here?"

"That's better." She stood up and walked toward him. Ezra stepped back, his hand going to his side to grab the gun from his shoulder holster. His fingers grasped only empty air. 

"Looking for this?" She held his gun out to him, handle pointed outward. Ezra's eyes darkened. What was the meaning of this? Was she here to rob him or something? Well, he wasn't in the mood.

"Look lady, I don't know what you want, but in case it has slipped your notice, I'm grieving a recent loss. So I would appreciate your going and leaving me the HELL alone."

She sighed. "Ezra, we're really going to have to do something about that temper of yours."

"Who are you!?" He demanded.

"Really Ezra, it hurts me that you don't remember. But I suppose its understandable, we really haven't met in this particular time frame, have we? Well, I suppose I should re-introduce myself." She held one hand out to him. Ezra took notice of the short, clean nails, and the gold ring in the shape of a cross on her fourth fingers. "Hello, Ezra, I'm Sirena, your guardian angel."


	3. Part 3

The Angel

By

Michelle Naylor

Part 3

Ezra took a deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth, slowly. Another one, in and out. 

Ok, blood pressure level coming down. That's it, nice and easy.

He regarded the woman in front of him. The quite obviously crazy woman.

"My what?"

"Guardian angel." She repeated. "Or spirit guide if you prefer. More politically correct as they say. I myself still like to called by the proper term."

"That's it." Ezra moved from behind the bar and grabbed her by the elbow, pulling her along with him as he walked to the door. "Please leave. I do hope you've enjoyed your fun and games tonight."

"I can't leave, Ezra." She said.

"Yes you can." He opened the door and pushed her out. "Good-night now." He slammed the door shut, then stood there a moment. He leaned his forehead against the door and groaned. 

Lord, why him? Was he being tested? Was that it?

"It's not a test, but if it where I would say you've just failed miserably."

"God damn!" Ezra jumped back from the door and whirled around. There she was, standing in the middle of his living room with her arms crossed over her chest.

She screwed her face up and shuddered. "There's another one. Let's make a deal, as long as I'm here you'll curb the tongue, okay?"

"How did….how could you….I kicked you out." With the thumb of one hand he pointed behind him to the door.

"Yeah, and it really wasn't a nice thing to do."

Ezra rubbed the back of his head where it had connected with the wall before. "I have a concussion, right? I knocked myself out and I'm dreaming."

She was next to him before he could blink. She reached out and pinched him arm hard.

"Ouch!"

"Alright, I guess that proved your not dreaming."

Ezra backed away from her. She was not a dream or a hallucination, she was definitely real, and she was scaring him to death.

Death. Chris. Oh no.

"No you don't. I do not intend to let you wallow in despair anymore. Your such a pitiful sight when you're feeling sorry for yourself, did you know that?"

"I don't know who you are, but you are not an angel, and I will not stand here and let myself be insulted."

"I told you, my name is Sirena. Sir-A-Na." She pronounced for him. "And in spite of what you say, I am an angel. I'm your angel, and I'm here to help you."

"Help me." He laughed, and dropped his tired body onto the couch. "Oh, that's rich. Tell me, angel, if you are here to help me, were exactly where you this evening?"

"There was a mistake." She said as she sat on the chair across from him.

"I'll say. The wrong person died tonight. I should be the one lying on a slab in the morgue. Is that it, angel, are you here to take me away?"

"Would you stop saying 'angel' as if it where a dirty word? And for your information; no, you were not supposed to die tonight, and neither was Chris."

"So why did he?" Ezra gave her a once over. Hey, she may or may not be an angel, but she was still an attractive woman, and he wasn't so despondent that he wouldn't notice that. Dark brown hair curled softly around her face. Her very angelic face. Clear translucent skin, like fine porcelain, blue eyes that seemed to reflect everything around him. If he looked deep enough he might even be able to see his own soul.

"There was a sort of….burp in the universe."

If she was an angel, she was the strangest one he's even met. Not that he'd met many to compare by, or course. "A burp? What happened, God have too much chili for supper?"

"Funny." She said, not even trying to hide the sarcasm in her voice. "You know, things are not always as cut and dry as you'd like them to be. Mistakes are made."

"Well, gosh-golly, gee-whiz, whatdaya know, even God makes mistakes." Ezra leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He had the worst headache of his life, pounding with a vengeance behind his eyes. Chris was dead and now he was going nuts. Seeing angels of all things.

"Yes, He does. And he is the first to admit that. So, that is why you're being given the chance to correct it."


	4. Part 4

The Angel

By

Michelle Naylor

Part 4

Ezra cracked open one eye. "Come again?"

"You'll be given a chance to live the day over again, to correct what went wrong. You will be the only one who will remember what originally happened, and how, so you'll be able to change it."

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. "Let me get this straight. I get to change the past?" At her nod, he continued. "Is that not dangerous? The space/time continuum and all that? All the unforeseen circumstances that can occur that science fiction writers always warn us about; world wars, earthquakes, tidal waves drowning the state of California, stuff like that?"

"Yes, that's true. But you see, as I've already told you, Chris dying tonight was a mistake. It should never have happened, it was not in the original plan."

Ezra watched her with interest as she went behind his bar and poured tow glassed of some ruby colored liquid out of a bottle he had never seen before. The bottle looked fine and expensive, make out of what looked to him to be gold.

"There's a plan?"

"There always has been." She came back to him and handed him a glass. He took it and looked at it tentatively. The liquid was bright red, and slightly thick. He brought the rim of the glass to his nose and sniffed. It smelled like cherries.

"You and the other guys have been together for a long time." She said.

"If one considers 3 years long."

"No, that's not what I mean. I mean, you've ALWAYS been together. And I've always been with you, Ezra. Right from your first incarnation till now."

He blinked. "My first what?"

Sirena smiled, her face taking on a dreamy quality. She seemed to glow. Ezra rubbed his eyes again. "Ancient Greece, those where the days. You know, I still see Athena from time to time." She winked at him. "She says hi."

Athena had always been his favorite of the Greek goddesses. The goddess of wisdom and the arts, and also known as a warrior, he had always felt an affinity toward her.

Ezra shook his head. What on earth was he thinking? Athena wasn't real. She couldn't be. Could she?

"You're trying to tell me I had a life in Ancient Greece?"

"Of course you did! You've had lots of lives, and I've been there for each of them. Me and the other girls have been witness to the seven of you reconnecting in each lifetime."

"The other girls?" Good lord, when did he start echoing other people?

"The other angels. The angels for the guys. We've been together for as long as you have."

"Oh, I see. So tell me, how many other lives have I lived?" If he was dreaming, he might as well make it an interesting one.

"Well, after Greece there was Rome. I'll never forget the sight of you in that little leather skirt." She giggled when he blushed. "And then there was Britain during the dark ages."

"I've always been interested in that time." He said. "What was I doing then?"

"You where a Knight of the Roundtable."

He felt his eyes widen. "But that is just a legend."

"All legends are based on actual history, and you, my dear, have had a hand in many of history's so-called 'legendary' stories."

"So, if you don't mind me asking, which knight was I?"

"Perceval. Buck was Kay, and JD was Galahad."

"That somehow makes sense." Ezra muttered.

She kept going. "Nathan was Gawain, and Vin, believe it or not, was Lancelot."

"And Chris?" He didn't really need for her to tell him, he already knew the answer in his heart. "Chris was Arthur, wasn't he?"

She nodded. "And Josiah was Merlin."

"Oh, this is too much."

"I think my favorite time was in the old west, though. The point is, Ezra, the seven of you where meant to live each lifetime together. You are each a part of a whole, and none of you will ever be complete if one wasn't there."

It was true, he knew it was true, for when Chris's life had left Ezra felt it within his very own being. It was like a part of his soul had been ripped away. But what was past was past. It was not possible to go back and change it, no matter how much he wished he could.

"Ezra, I wouldn't lie to you."

He wouldn't look up, he just stared down into the glass he held, wishing he could drown himself in it.

"Ezra, look at me."

For some reason he could not understand he could not disobey her. He raised his eyes to her, could see her soft smile, her kind, understanding eyes.

"All you have to do is keep Chris safe, that's all. You alone will have the power to change everything for the better."

"No." He shook his head. "No. I can't."

"Yes you can. I'll be here to help you."

"Why me?" He just could not fathom why he should be chosen to carry out such a task. He had always thought God had given up on him a long time ago. And now to have someone who claims to be an angel come and tell him he would be able to save Chris….how could he do that? How could he be expected too?

"Ezra, it never ceases to amaze me that you refuse to see how special you are. Don't you know that you are the glue that holds the seven of you together?"

He laughed. "Yeah, right. I'll buy that. And while you're at it, don't you have any ocean front property in Arizona to sell me?"

"Each of you, in your own way, adds something to the whole. The seven of you are one soul. Created as one, and split apart. None of you will ever be complete without the other 6."

He shook his head, refusing to trust her words; but he could not help the need in his heart to believe. " They could live without me. They don't really need me. They need Chris. Buck and Vin need him, JD needs him." He went silent; his eyes filling up with more unshed tears. "God help me, I need him."

"God will help, Ezra. I'll help. But correcting what went wrong will lye with you."

Ezra could feel the moisture as it gathered behind his eyes, and he cursed himself for the weakness. The strange liquid in the glass beckoned to him. It was as if he could hear it whispering in his ear, saying, 'drink me, and all will be well'. 

His arm raised as though under it's own accord, and the rim of the glass touched his lips. He tasted sweetness. His greedy mouth drank the substance in. There was a hint of summer berries, of the fizz of soda, and a tangy taste that he could not quite recognize.

His arm lowered and he felt the glass being slipped from his suddenly loose hand. Sirena kneeled beside him.

"Sleep now, Ezra. When you wake you'll understand better."

Ezra tried to tell her he would never understand, in a million years, but the words could not seem to form in his throat. His eyelids felt heavy. Sleep…. Yes, he must sleep. In that welcoming, dark state he could forget the horror, the pain.

He could pretend it never happened. He could change it.


	5. Part 5

The Angel

By

Michelle Naylor

Part 5

The sound of the radio alarm clock startled Ezra out of his deep sleep. He shot up out of bed, flinging pillows and covers around, and let out a sharp cry.

It wasn't the incessent beeping that shocked him so, he was used to that, it was the loud sound of a fiddled being played at top speed, accompanied by the sung story of the devil visiting Georgia.

He quickly pressed the button that shut the contraption up, then sat there in the middle of his rumpled sheets, trying to bring some sense into his muddled brain.

Since when did he have his radio set to a country station? He usually liked to wake up to easy listening.

A beam of early morning sunlight traced a path across this bedroom floor. He blinked, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

Morning, it was morning, and it was (he looked at the clock) 8:30 am. Time to go to work.

As he swung his legs over the side of the bed, and his bare feet touched the hard wood floor, the memory of the night before assaulted him.

"Oh no." he moaned, and fell back onto his bed. He curled himself up into a ball, wishing he could curl so tight that he would simply disappear. That would be better. Then he wouldn't have to face the world anymore, wouldn't have to face the others knowing that they blamed him.

He should just disappear.

"Ezra Standish, you stop thinking that way right this instant!"

He screamed and bolted upright. A very angry looking woman stood beside his bed. She looked familiar, something about last night…

"You. I thought you just a dream."

"I normally am, but I made a promise to you. I'm going to stay by your side for the rest of the day." She grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. "Get up."

"What for? I rather doubt I am welcome anymore."

She sighed, a long, exasperated sound.

"I thought we went over this. Today is Thursday the 18th, same was what for you was yesterday, but as far as anyone else is concerned, it's today. Get it?"

"You are making my head spin."

"I hate having to repeat myself." She muttered. She began to go through Ezra's closet as she talked. "Today you are being given a chance to correct what went wrong, to change both the past and the future. By assuring that Chris remains alive, you will therefore set the world back on its correct course."

She pulled out a dark gray suit, the same one, Ezra noted, that he had worn yesterday. Or was it today?

He shook his head. Oh good god.

"So, Ezra Standish saves the Earth. I suppose I should go out and invest in a pair of blue tights and a red cape."

She grinned at him. "That might be a good look for you. For right now, just go put this on. We have a full day ahead."

Ezra grabbed the suit pants and jacket from her hands. "I will tell you this right now. If, when I get to the office, I find this has all been some sick joke, there will be hell to pay."

"Hell always makes people pay, Ezra. It's only heaven that will give something for nothing."

He made a 'hump-ing' sound and went into the bathroom to change.


	6. Part 6

The Angel

By

Michelle Naylor

Part 6

He was left alone long enough on his drive to the office to think about whether or not he had finally taken a big leap off the deep end.

A job like his had driven lesser men into insanity before; he always figured it would just be a matter of time.

If not for the presence of his associates…no, his friends… he would have lost his mind long ago.

Was that what had happened? Had loosing Chris been the final straw that broke his already fragile hold on sanity?

Ezra pulled into his normal parking space and turned off the jag's engine. He sat there for a minute, considering just leaving and driving himself to the nearest phyciatric ward. 

No, that wouldn't do. He hated the medical establishment in all its guises. If he truly thought himself crazy he would simply cut his loses and find the nearest cliff to drive over.

"I wouldn't do that if I where you."

He didn't scream at the sudden voice this time; he just raised his tired green eyes to her. "Must you read my mind?"

His angel shrugged. "Easiest way to find out what you're really feeling."

"Lovely," he said, getting out of his car. He pushed the button on his key chain to lock the doors and set the alarm. He needn't worry about holding the passenger door for her, for she was beside him as soon as he turned around. "So tell me something, why can't you communicate telepathically? Is that not how it's supposed to work?"

"I can." She said, pressing the elevator button for him. "If you would just open up your mind enough to hear me."

The door slid open and the two of them stepped inside. Ezra took note that Sirena's image did not reflect in the mirrored walls of the elevator car.

"Am I the only one who can see you?" He looked very stupid, he thought, asking the question while standing next to a woman who had no reflection.

"At the time, yes." She laughed at his mumbled 'Great'. "Don't worry, I won't make you look any crazier then your friends already think you are."

"That's nice to know." The elevator had reached the seventh floor, and Ezra was about to walk out as the door opened when a large figure blocked his way.

"You're late, Ezra. Again. I told you to be here early today."

The voice was one he knew well; the tone was one of dangerous anger.

Ezra felt the world around him start to sway as he looked up into Chris Larabee's dark green eyes.

He saw those eyes soften into concern as they looked back at him.

"Ezra?"

It was the last sound he heard before everything went blank.


	7. Part 7

The Angel

By 

Michelle Naylor

Part 7

There was someone very softly singing. It was a song he knew, though he could not say how. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the melody struck a cord. (No pun intended.)

The language was strange. He could not place the words, yet they too reached in to touch some primal part of him.

The voice though…he knew that voice. It was the voice of his childhood, the one he would always hear inside his mind during his darkest times. The one that drove him into law enforcement, the one that urged him to come to Denver. That voice had never stirred him wrong.

A hand gently pushed a few strands of hair off his forehead. Soft, smooth fingers. They radiated warmth and comfort.

He opened his eyes, taking a few moments for his vision to clear.

A beautiful face looked down at him.

"Sirena." He whispered. He smiled and closed his eyes again. He felt safe. He could never feel otherwise in her presence.

He heard her soft laughter. "So you do remember. I knew you would, eventually."

"I don't, not really, but I do know you. I don't know how or why, but I do."

"Of course you do." She said, and started to hum again. Ezra felt himself begin to float on the wave of her voice. It was like being rocked to sleep.

The lovely sound of her voice and the touch of her hand where gone in an instant, replaced by the feel of a much larger, rougher touch on his forehead. He opened his eyes to protest Sirena's departure, but she was still there. 

And Chris was kneeling beside him!

"Hey Ez." Chris said. "You feelin' better?"

He felt like throwing up. With effort he managed to force the bile back down his throat. Moving his gaze to Sirena, he saw her smile at him. Only it wasn't the soft, caring smile he recalled from before. This smile said all too clearly, 'I told you so'.

He narrowed his eyes at her. His angel had a mean streak. 

"Stop that." He growled at her.

"Stop what?" Chris asked.

Ezra looked back to Chris. "I…uh…I meant…ummm, nothing."

"Uh-huh." Chris didn't sound to convinced. So much for his magic tongue, it deserted him when he needed it the most.

Ezra shifted uncomfortably on what he now realized to be the leather couch in Chris's office. "Ummm, Mr. Larabee, do you mind explaining how I cam to be ensconced in your office?"

"You must be feeling better." Chris said, shaking his head at the amount of words in the question. Wouldn't a simple 'how did I get here?' work just as well? "You passed out. You've been dead to the world for an hour."

Ezra felt himself shiver at the word 'dead'. He was reminded that that would be the state Chris would be in if he did not succeed. There would be on third chance. He knew that without even asking Sirena.

"Are you cold?" Chris asked when he was his undercover agent shake.

"No." Ezra shook his head. "just…deja-vu I believe."

There was a knock at the door, and Nathan stuck his head inside. "Hey, you're awake." He said when he saw Ezra sitting up. He came in and walked over to the southern man and reached one dark hand out to feel a cool forehead. "No fever, that's good." He went to touch Ezra's wrist to feel his pulse, but Ezra jerked his hand away.

"I assure you, Mr. Jackson, I am in perfect health."

"Men in perfect health don't pass out, Ezra." Nathan studied him with a critical eye. "When was the last time you ate?"

Ezra sighed. He knew it would do no good to argue with Nathan in his 'mother-hen' mode. "I missed dinner last night." Or would that be tonight? He hoped this time-shifting thing didn't leave him permanently confused. "And there was no time for breakfast this morning."

"I knew it." Nathan was giving him that look, the one usually reserved for naughty children and the feeble-minded. He obviously thought Ezra had no idea how to take care of himself. "I'm gonna order you up some food, and you're gonna eat every last bite of it." He turned to Chris. "I should take him home."

"NO!" Ezra and Sirena said the word at the same time. 

"No." Ezra repeated. "I'm fine. I just need to eat, like Nathan says."

"He's agreeing with me, Chris. That's not a good sign."

Ezra shot a dirty look toward the former medic, only to see the humor behind his dark eyes. Ezra could feel the corners of his own mouth start to twitch. 

"Well, miracles have been known to happen." He quipped, sending a sidelong glance at Sirena. She smiled.

Chris studied Ezra for a minute, trying to gage the truth about his health. He must have been satisfied, for he nodded and said, "Alright. No need to leave if you're not sick. You're not sick, are you?"

Ezra felt that cold stare bore into him. It was the magic of the Larabee glare; no one could lie while being held in its grasp.

"I'm right as rain." He gave what he hoped was his most assuring smile. Inside, he felt like falling over everytime he looked at Chris standing there, alive and healthy.

"Get him some breakfast." Chris spoke to Nathan. "Force feed him if you have too."

Nathan gave a two finger salute, the teams signal, and left to go downstairs to the cafeteria.

"Hey Ez." Chris said before Ezra could follow Nathan out of his office door.

"Yes, Mr. Larabee?" Ezra left his hand on the doorknob and turned his head to look at the team leader. He heart jumped again. Lord, he didn't know if he had the strength.

"You do." He heard Sirena whisper to him. Funny how her confidence in him could transfer into his own being.

"You better be telling the truth about how you're feeling. Can't afford to have you falling down on the job again." Chris told him.

"I assure you, I shall not fail to perform to the best of my abilities." The words where spoken to Chris, but they where meant for Sirena as well. He would not fail in what he had been chosen to do. No matter the cost.


End file.
